


abide with me

by AroJade (AlleyCatSunflower)



Category: Tales of the Abyss
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fights, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Pre-Canon, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Van Grants - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2020-03-13 04:52:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18933814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleyCatSunflower/pseuds/AroJade
Summary: Arietta wakes up with a song in her head that Ion used to sing, but when she goes to ask Van about it, someone's in her way. That someone is, as usual, intent on wreaking havoc on her heart, but this time, she's ready to fight back. No spoilers.





	abide with me

**Author's Note:**

> The song mentioned is, unsurprisingly, Henry Lyte's hymn ["Abide With Me"](https://www.godtube.com/popular-hymns/abide-with-me/).

Arietta slid out of bed, still trembling from her most frequently recurring nightmare, and tried to blink herself back to reality.

Images of Ion yet flooded her mind, and she felt his gentle hand on hers as she scrawled her first letters onto a blank paper. The sting of that same hand on her cheek  _still_  stung, left over from when she had told him with some concern that his smile looked like he was in pain. She remembered even more clearly the more recent, faraway look in his eye and the uncertain, sad smile he gave her as he walked in the company of the dark-haired girl with the sparkling eyes and the bold movements.

But more vividly still, in her mind stood out a song, melancholy and melodic, that Ion used to sing.

He had always stood alone in the cathedral, usually with the moonlight shining through the stained glass. His voice, light and mournful, carried well through the room, and Arietta leaned against the doorway, listening in awe to his quiet and bell-like tones. But Ion stopped abruptly whenever he noticed her, and asked her in the harsh tones more characteristic of the ligers than his own soft humanity what she was doing there. She had always bowed, muttered an apology, and scurried away, leaving him to the other verses in solitude.

Somehow, it felt as though the key to dispelling these nightmares was to learn the name of that song.

After some deliberation, Arietta slipped reluctantly into her thin white nightgown. She preferred to sleep curled in a comfortable naked ball, just like the days before she left the forest, but sleepy as she was, she was just conscious enough that she knew she was expected to wear clothes like all others of her race. "Van," mumbled Arietta, and opened the door. If anyone would know the tune Ion sang long ago in his high, clear voice, it would be the Commandant. After all, it had been Van's own song that had charmed her into captivity, and there she had willingly stayed.

Shutting the door quietly behind her, Arietta made her way into the cool and comfortable darkness of the God-Generals' hall. Only a few lamps were lit, casting dim golden light down the corridor. She padded softly through the hallway, bare feet shuffling on the carpet.

Van's bedroom, through the door at the end of the hall, was the grandest, most ornate room she'd ever seen, except the cathedral itself. Arietta had been there several times before; in her younger days, she would flee down the hall to him after awakening from her nightmares, and he would sing her to sleep and carry her back to her own bed again. (It had been after the first of those frantic midnight visits that he had made a gift of that nightgown to her.)

"Going to Van's?" asked a snide voice, and Arietta started.

Sync leaned against the wall next to his room, legs and bare arms both crossed. He still wore his mask, which glinted gold in the darkness, and snickered unpleasantly. Anger flashed through her heart briefly at his tone. Sync, ever since he had joined the God-Generals a little over a year ago, had given her no end of trouble about everything he could. "Yes," she said, unable to hide some resentment at his asking. "Why are you here?"

"You can't go running to him for everything," said Sync.

Arietta narrowed her eyes. She hadn't gotten up to see the Commandant about anything for months now, and she was proud of herself for it. "I  _don't_  run to Van for everything."

"Do so," returned Sync, uncrossing his arms and pushing himself away from the wall to stand up straight. She got the feeling he was looking her in the eye, even if she couldn't see the challenge in his gaze. "What's it about this time? Another nightmare about your precious Ion?"

Sync had never met Ion, but he always used that tone when he was talking about him. As infuriating as that could be, it was even more confusing. After all, they were very similar, even physically—but as soon as she had voiced this to Legretta, she had been told she was looking for nonexistent parallels, and had done her best to put them from her mind.

Still, even having been suppressed for years, those similarities must have softened Arietta. No matterhow much Sync lashed out at Ion, and no matter how frustrated he made her, something prevented her from genuinely hating him. Any anger she felt usually ebbed away quickly, to be replaced by pity. But now, a fury stirred in her heart the like of which Arietta had never felt.

She raised her head as high as she dared to search the eyes she knew lay somewhere behind the mask. "Say that again," she ordered, all trace of her ordinary shyness and hesitation gone.

"I  _said_ ," said Sync with mock patience, "you had another nightmare about your precious Ion, and now you're running to Van's room so he can calm you down." He enunciated each word and spoke slowly, as though his intention of antagonizing her wasn't clear.

Rage boiled in Arietta's heart at his tone. She had been perfectly calm until Sync had gotten to her. "I'm not. I'm going to see him about a song."

"A  _song_?" asked Sync, and he sounded genuinely surprised, almost as though he had forgotten to be nasty for a moment. His voice even sounded a little higher-pitched than usual, though that might have been Arietta's imagination. "What song?"

Arietta frowned at the shift in his tone, her own anger evaporating as usual as Sync lowered his head. (Maybe he was embarrassed.) "None of your business," she said, gathering courage from his unusual passivity, and took a few more steps forward.

Sync could have followed if he wanted, but he didn't move. Triumphant, Arietta raised her hand to knock at Van's door, but as she did so, a voice—hoarse and somewhat off-key—sliced through the air. The ghost of Ion's song echoed hauntingly through the corridor; it even sounded like his voice, though his had been much smoother than this. " _Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day._ _Earth's joys grow dim; its glories pass away. Change and decay in all around I see…_ "

Arietta did not want to turn around, lest she break the illusion of Ion's presence. She knew better than to ask how Sync knew the song to begin with, let alone how he knew that that was the song she was talking about. He had an eerie habit of judging situations incredibly accurately, almost to the point of predicting the future. Arietta waited for the final line in the verse eagerly, the last phrase hanging unfinished on the edge of her mind, but it never came.

When she finally opened her eyes again, disappointed, she realized with a jolt that Sync now stood beside her, looking down at her through his impenetrable mask. "Ion's  _gone_. A song like that isn't going to bring him back."

Sync smiled at Arietta's wide eyes, his mission to antagonize her accomplished, and was about to turn away again when she surprised them both by catching his wrist. He turned and looked at her with such disgust in his countenance that she almost faltered, but did her best to burn her gaze straight through that mask. "Stop talking about Master Ion like that," she said quietly, clenching her fist around his wrist.

"Make me," said Sync after a brief and almost uncertain pause, yanking his foearm from her grip and taking a step back. " _Master Ion_  this,  _Master Ion_  that. Even after all this time, you still can't stand on your own. You're so pathetic." He grinned at her tauntingly, and Arietta's eyes filled with hot and angry tears.

Before either of them realized that a line had been crossed, Arietta snapped. Letting out a frenzied cry, she slashed at Sync's face with her fingernails, and his mask shifted at her blow. He backed up another step, grimacing almost desperately, but she followed. Even as she raked her nails across as many parts as she could reach—more than usual, since he wore a black sleeveless shirt in place of his coat—he seemed more preoccupied with ensuring his mask stayed in place than defending himself.

"Get off!" snarled Sync eventually, holding his mask with one hand, and shoved Arietta back with the other, using such force that she staggered backward and fell down. As Sync raced back down the hall, Arietta leapt to her feet and sprinted after him at full speed, pouncing like a liger onto his back just before he reached his room. Throwing an elbow around his neck, she wrapped her legs around his torso, digging her heels into his diaphragm.

Sync stumbled, cursing breathlessly, then reversed direction abruptly and backed into the wall, crushing Arietta. She gasped for air, digging her chin into his shoulder, and he yelped, both hands trying to force her arm away from him as he leaned against the wall with all his weight. She clung to him furiously, clenching her extremities tighter every time he struggled.

Coughing, Sync whirled around and flung himself onto the ground with no warning, and Arietta let out a squeak as her limited breath was pushed out of her lungs. The strength went out of her arms and legs as she was squeezed between Sync's body and the floor. Panting, he threw her arm off his neck and got to his feet, straightening his mask.

Though he looked down at Arietta for a few moments, he turned his back on her before she could discern his expression, and rubbed his neck. "Freak," he growled, though his voice was faint and feeble from his suffocation. "You only know what your liger friends taught you. Van was a fool to think you could be tamed."

Fierce pride welled up in Arietta's heart.  _I am untamed._ Those three words echoed in her head encouragingly, and she got to her feet as well, breathing hard. Sync glanced over his shoulder at her as she approached him, but did not stir. "Say you're sorry," hissed Arietta, as fiercely as she could, though her voice was little more than a whisper.

"No," said Sync, turning fully around again. She expected to see that arrogant half-smile, but instead, his expression was impassive. She expected him to reignite their fight, but instead, he made no moves at all, either towards her or away. Why was he so  _difficult_?

Another, final surge of exhausted fury crashed onto Arietta as Sync stood there, perhaps expecting her to give up. Summoning the very last of her late-night strength, she seized Sync's shoulders—surprised at his lack of resistance—and slammed him as hard as she could into the wall next to his door, pressing her entire, slender body against his with all her limited force to keep him in place.

Everything went very still and silent. Arietta had expected Sync to throw her off instantly, but he seemed to be holding his breath. She dug her fingernails into his wrist, pressed against the wall along with the rest of him, but he did not react. Only after another pause did he let out a sigh, but this was not his usual exasperated exhalation.  _This_  one was quiet and halting, and that single breath held many secrets.

He had no right to keep them. "Say. You're. Sorry," snarled Arietta, sinking her teeth gently into Sync's throat—careful to make it very clear that if he didn't, she wouldn't hesitate to rip his throat out like the ligers had taught her to do.

Sync inhaled sharply, and she could feel a shiver running through his body; beneath her fingers, his wrist trembled. "I…" began Sync in a somewhat choked voice, his throat vibrating under her teeth with his soft utterance. His heartbeat, so close to hers, quickened, and its strength suddenly threatened to overwhelm her completely. She had felt Ion's heartbeat like that as he slept, once, and it held the same power. Did she really have the heart to kill him, or even threaten him?

Though she had not reached a conscious decision, Arietta's lips slid down over her teeth again automatically, and Sync made a breathy noise a little like a groan in the back of his throat.

"Arietta!" boomed Van's voice down the hall. Startled, she let go and stepped away in a hurry. Her prey merely leaned against the wall as if none of the battle had ever happened, but she could hear how heavy his breaths were.

"Yes, Van," mumbled Arietta, putting her hands behind her back and staring at the floor. She might have come out of her room to find him to begin with, but now, she wished he'd never emerged. She'd almost gotten Sync the Tempest to say he was sorry. Why had he chosen  _then_  of all times to interrupt?

"It's two-thirty in the morning," continued Van, looking imperiously down at them both. Arietta looked meekly back up at him, but Sync's expression remained impassive. " _What_ is going on?"

Sync and Arietta exchanged as much of a glance as could be done when one set of eyes was invisible, and looked up at Van again. "Just playing," muttered Sync unconvincingly, voice dripping with resentment.

"Yes," agreed Arietta hastily, giving him an annoyed glance. The least he could do would be to make that lie sound truthful. "Just… playing."

"Playing," repeated Van disbelievingly. "I see." He surveyed the two of them suspiciously (Arietta dared to look earnestly into his eyes) before heaving a sigh. "Go back to your rooms, and go to bed. That's an order." Sync started moving almost before Van had finished speaking, opening the door and disappearing into his room, and the lock clicked behind him.

Letting out a long breath, Van gave Arietta one more appraising look, but she could not find the words to ask the question she had wanted—it no longer seemed so important—and dropped her gaze to the floor. Shaking his head, Van retreated down the hall back to his own room. Only after the sound of a door closing reached Arietta's ears did she dare rest her ear against the door, trying to articulate her own apology, but as she was about to say her piece and hope he accepted it…

"Sorry," came a barely audible whisper from the other side of the door, and as his footsteps retreated, Arietta found herself unable to keep from forgiving him.


End file.
